This place used to be paradise. Then came a hipster and asked for Wi-Fi

It was the very first place I visited in Mexico and I have never publicly mentioned its name ever since. Cause I tried to keep it distanced from the masses. But things had changed. A lot.

It was love at first sight. My Mexican friends showed me this place on my first visit. We traveled from Ciudad de México for almost a full day before we got there. First, an all-night bus ride, only to hop on a local minibus in the morning, where we were squeezed in for the next eight hours. Then a brief refreshment in a small town by the ocean, another minibus, a taxi through the jungle, a boat across the lagoon, and finally an hour-long jeep ride to our destination.

But then came the reward: a beautiful virgin beach where the Pacific meets a fabulous inland lagoon. A tropical paradise. No signal, just a sky full of stars and a few settlers in simple houses.

The most beautiful mornings I have ever seen. 

So far, I'd only known this from travel documentaries. Here, they've become a lived reality. A place where you lose track of time because it doesn't do you any good. Everything is guided by the sunrise and sunset. A place where you're in no hurry, because why would you be? A place where you don't need a phone or a computer, because why would you? Your only duty was to get up in the morning so you wouldn't miss the most spectacular sunrise, swim in the warm waters of the Pacific, recharge with fresh fruit and shrimp, and then lie in a hammock in the shade of a palm tree and cool off with an ice cold beer.

I probably don't need to explain more why that beach has since become my holy land. That's also why I decided to keep it a secret and never disclose its name and location. It wasn't some godforsaken spot hiding from the world, but even many of my Mexican friends didn't know about it at the time.

The very next year I managed to get to the beach again, this time alone. But it was almost the same delight. Then I went back the next year. They already knew me there, and the lady who rented me the cabin gave me the Wi-Fi password when I arrived. This time I wasn't the only western visitor, there were considerably more tourists. But it still worked.

Next time I brought my girlfriend along to share this secret with her. She was as excited as I was the first time. By this time I could see things changing before my eyes - there were more foreigners, more restaurants, more flickering bars, and more accommodations, including fancy two-story cottages with terraces and air conditioning. A year later, mass tourism was lurking from all corners - even when I chatted with a Canadian tourist at the airport on the way somewhere, he asked me about this place. He said he had heard nothing but compliments about it. It was clear that more and more people were falling in love with this beach. Our relationship became polyamory and the holy land became a harem.

The good old times in my secret place.